


You Are the Only One (My Everything)

by wednesdays



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Afterlife, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Fate, Ghosts, Prom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-29
Updated: 2013-09-29
Packaged: 2017-12-27 22:27:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/984342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wednesdays/pseuds/wednesdays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boyd and Erica share one last slow dance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Are the Only One (My Everything)

**Author's Note:**

> WHY DID I WRITE THIS I'M HAVING CHEST PAINS
> 
> their slow dance song could either be [this](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IJ5AtsYPepw) [this](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1RuUnIF5a6c) [this](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pn62kqbwThI) or (where i for the title from) [this](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fj3Xqdpt7DQ) i couldn't choose and i think boyd would have liked boyz ii men and erica would have liked his music taste and maybe ribbon in the sky would have been their wedding song and i'm crying
> 
> goodbye friends always remember berica forever

Erica remembers exactly when she bought her prom dress.  
  
One week after Derek gave her the bite, she treated herself to a little shopping spree. She went by herself: not only because she had no friends, but because fuck everyone else, she was going to treat herself to something nice, and she didn't need anyone else's opinion. It was time she let herself look beautiful.  
  
It was red, because it matched the very first lipstick she bought herself, the one that aided in her new found confidence; because it was the color she saw behind her eyelids whenever she heard a taunt directed at her; because it was the color of Derek's eyes as his teeth sunk into her skin.  
  
(It's still sitting in her closet at home, dusty and untouched, because she knows her mother is still clinging desperately to the last remnants of her. It isn't healthy, but there isn't any way she can tell her mother this anymore. Ghosts can't speak to the living, she's learned.)  
  
She remembers exactly when she was going to ask Boyd to go to prom with her.  
  
Before they were kidnapped by the Alpha pack and locked in the vault, she was going to ask him the moment they found and secured themselves into the new pack. She was going to find them a high school to attend, and she was going to sit down and ask him if he wanted to go to prom with her.  
  
He would have said yes, she knows. She saw the answer in the warmth of his big brown eyes; in the gentle touches he always gave her, along with his even gentler words; in the kindness in his actions. He wanted love and acceptance just as much as she did, and she likes to think he also realized they never needed society's acceptance; they just needed each other all along.  
  
(Boyd's lying in a coffin underground, too far away from her own grave for her liking. She watched the funeral, standing in the very front row, and didn't cry as they lowered him into the ground. Ghosts can't cry, she's learned.)  
  
Now, as she stands in front of her old high school as multitudes of familiar pretty girls and handsome boys parade inside, hand in hand, she wonders how exactly their night would have gone had they both not died.  
  
People pass through her with ease, shivering at the apparent cold burst she gives them. They laugh and chat and compliment each other and Erica watches with a wistful eye. She wouldn't have complimented any of them probably, but Boyd probably would have made her, whispering in her ear with a smile on his face, to say her hellos and her you look wonderfuls.  
  
(Probably.)  
  
She walks inside, because she can't help it. The hallway is strung with streamers; the walls covered with thick curtains to hide the school-made posters. Teachers usher the students in with ease, allowing the flow of the crowd to seep right into the gymnasium. Despite the old dirtiness of the gym, it looks magical; white and gold streamers and balloons and softly glowing fairly lights adorn the place, dimly lit and casting a gorgeous effect on the students below.  
  
Everyone looks incredible, she thinks as she looks around. Though, she knows she wouldn't be able to focus on any of it if she had come with Boyd.  
  
( _"Look at the lights,"_ she imagines him whispering in her ear, the words only for her. _"Look at the streamers."_ she would smile at him and squeeze his hand.  
  
 _"But I can't stop looking at you."_ she'd reply, and he would have almost blushed, and she would have giggled.)  
  
She wanders around, as she usually finds herself doing nowadays, and catches glimpses of people she recognizes; Stiles in a dapper ink black suit; Scott drinking a cup of punch; Lydia strutting across the dance floor with a confidence Erica's always admired and envied. It's equally heart wrenching and wonderful, to say the least.  
  
Eventually she finds herself standing by the DJ's station, looking out into the crowd with a tilted head. It's everything she would have wanted, and everything she would have hoped for. At times like this, she thinks as she gazes over familiar faces, she's glad ghosts can't cry.  
  
In all honesty, she's not surprised to see Boyd standing in the middle of the dance floor when she looks around again, smiling at her, all teeth and bright eyes. It just makes _sense_. She smiles back, and the world goes quiet as she wades through the crowd to stand in front of him.  
  
All this time she's been wandering, she never knew what she was waiting for, or why she never passed on to another place or another life. She never even knew if there was another life to go to and whether she was stuck on Earth until its dying day. Now, she knows exactly why she's stayed here all along.  
  
"Took you long enough," Boyd says softly, smile just as sweet. Erica grins wider, taking one of his hands in both of her own. He's very warm and very wonderful.  
  
"I've been waiting for you," she replies, almost giggling. "Boyd, would you like to go to prom with me?" Boyd nods, silently, the way he does, and pulls her closer.  
  
"Would you like to have this dance with me?" he asks, always the perfect gentleman, and who is Erica to say no?  
  
The song is slow, sweet, perfect. The song is everything she knew she wanted their slow dance to be. She holds his shoulders, and he holds her waist, and they dance. She lays her head down on his chest and listens to the echoes of his heartbeat, matching in time with their song, and smiles again.  
  
"I love you," she whispers, already feeling herself fading. Boyd hums, hands firm and warm and soft where they lie on her waist, never leaving.  
  
"I love you," he responds, and together they slow dance into the next life.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://scottmccalliente.tumblr.com/)  
>   
> 
> i'd love feedback!


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